Hey! 50 reviews! :D Thanks so much guys! I'm back! Sorry this is so late. Would've finished it last week, but I had to go New York for awhile, and I didn't get back until late last night. Back to everyday life.

Owl groaned quietly, sliding to the ground, his back to the stall door. He had done it again. This time, in front of his new friends. He was such an idiot.

The brunette's view of the group faded as another image took its place. A boy with sandy-blond hair gasped as something red shot through him, causing him to curl into a fetal position. A female voice shouted at the blond in Japanese, angrily. Owl blinked, and the vision vanished. The group of 'misfits' looked at him curiously.

"You okay, Owl?"

"I… he…" The teen stuttered, trying to figure out how to breathe. "I… I'll be right back."

"Owl? Are you okay?" It was Joey's voice. And from the sound, Patrick was with him.

"Y-Yeah." Owl replied quietly, taking a deep breath. "I-I'll be out in a minute."

"Well… okay, if you're sure." The sound of reluctant, slow footsteps was heard, slowly getting softer. Once they were gone, Owl let out a sigh. Eventually, he stood, opening the stall door. The bathroom seemed empty, and Owl trudged up to a mirror and sink, looking at his face. It was pale. Sighing again, he turned on the cold water, splashing his face.

"It's not déjà vu." The teen's head snapped up, shocked. In the mirror stood a boy with a gray sweatshirt, and baggy jeans. He looked to be around Owl's age, with a wiry build and brown hair and eyes. He had an impassive look on his face, and was leaning casually against one of the stall posts. "You have sight unlike any other. If you agree to help me, we can put that sight to use." Owl turned around slowly, looking at the boy face to face.

"…How do you know about…?"

"I know a lot of things. You can call me Pyro." The boy smirked-though barely-and nodded in greeting.


"Well, Owl, will you help me? It's for a good cause." Owl's gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, and then, making up his mind, looked up and nodded.

"…Yeah. I'll help you."

"So how's it going? With the journal, I mean." A girl, dressed in a bright t-shirt of meshed colors and light blue jeans, sat next to Lalan on the park bench. She was 5'3", with long brown hair, fit and somewhat muscular. Her eyes-one brown and one green-twinkled in delight.

"Not very well." The blonde muttered in reply, slumping. "We've analyzed the blood, it definitely belongs to a human being, but we haven't had a match yet. We've already tried the DNA of everyone both in neighboring towns in Alaska, and here. So far, it's looking to be on a global schedule."

"...I hate to say it, Lalan, but the police are weak, and not the most reliable source. Not anymore, anyways. If it were, oh I don't know, 10 years ago, they would be the first I would go to for help. Now, not so much." Lalan frowned slightly at her frankness, but didn't voice her disagreement.

"…I know, Katharine. I just wish…. Oh, I don't know." Katharine Browning smiled sympathetically, before getting up again.

"Well, anyways, I just wanted to tell you that we finally got Ixion in a prison cell. Don't know how long it will be before he gets out, but I heard you wanted any supervillains captured to be ready for questioning." She waved as she strolled down the park trails, which for once, were peaceful.

The man known as Louis Gardner stood tall at 6'7", his stance and posture showing him to be muscular. He was Caucasian with grey eyes set behind thick-rimmed glasses and messy brown hair. With the somewhat ruffled business suit, he would've looked like any other citizen, except for the burn marks that marred his face and body. Lalan guessed that he must have been caught recently, for he had the strong stench of alcohol reeking from his clothes and mouth.

"Are you Louis Gardner?" Lalan asked, arms crossed firmly.

"That I am, missy. And who might you be?" The man replied, voice slurring a tad. He was still somewhat drunk.

"Lalan Ruzaduke. I'm a detective."

"Right young and pretty for one, if I do say so myself." Louis smirked somewhat, lounging casually on the hard metal slab that served as his bed.

"Flattery will get you nowhere. Tell me what I need to know, and maybe your sentence won't be as harsh."

"Well then, what do you want to know?" The man sat up, smirk still playing itself on his face.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about the Unkiller. And I mean everything." Ixion's smirk dropped at the name, his eyes narrowing.

"Getting mixed up with that kid will do you no good, Ms. Detective. More heartless than over half the villains I've ever known."

"I take it you know him, then?"

"Yeah, I know him quite well. We used to be somewhat friends, if you can call our relationship as such. I offered to take him out drinking once; though it turned out he was underage." Lalan frowned slightly, nodding to indicate to the man to continue. "The little blondie always seemed a little naïve, sometimes would talk to me or some of the others about doubts of what we were doing."

"Blondie? The Unkiller's blond?" Lalan interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "So then you've seen his face?"

"No. Even around us he usually wears a mask or something, always hiding his face. Closest thing to identification that I've seen is his hair and voice."

"R-Right. How did you two meet?"

"We met in a museum. I was taking some of my stuff back and he helped me get out of there."

"Taking your stuff back?"

"Some bastards stole the Greek artifacts that I found. It belonged to me." Ixion snapped with a growl. Ruthlessly, he snarled a few Greek curses at the teen. Lalan blinked, fighting the urge to back away.

"I-I see. Thank you for your cooperation. If I need anything else, I'll come talk to you." Almost too quickly, the blonde strode away from the cell, almost breaking into a run when Ixion yelled after her.

"I would run if I were you, missy! The Titans are worse than the Zeus himself!" Cackling followed the cryptic warning, causing the blonde to shudder.

Wrapping her coat tighter around herself as she stepped out into the cold night, Lalan muttered, "This is why I hate interrogations."